Hoarding: Buried Alive?
There is the distinct possibility that I could be a closet hoarder ... just a wee bit. Not a full-fledged hoarder, mind you. Perhaps I could be classified as a Stage 1 Hoarder. A semi-hoarder, if you will.
It's just that, while cleaning out closets and, well, whole rooms, I run across stuff. Lots of stuff. Old stuff. Very old stuff. Twenty-year old stuff. Twenty-year old stuff that has moved six houses ... and across two state lines ... maybe ... okay, for sure, it did move across two state lines.
But it's not because I can't part with the junk. It's that I am overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of stuff in a given location, and rather than deal with it, I shove it in things. Like boxes ... like old, broken down envelope boxes ... for instance ... maybe ... okay, yes! I found a crap load of stuff in an old broken down envelope box. I admit it!
I'm pretty sure that, back in the 70s, when I was a small tyke, and I had that bright, banana-yellow plastic purse, I shoved all sorts of crap in that! I know I did, cuz I can remember grabbing the papers that my mother piled by her feet while she was paying bills ... the papers that she was going to recycle or throw away ... and I'd stuff them in stuff before she could squeal that I needed to keep my hands off. I am relatively sure she squealed those words because she found countless wads of papers in various vessels, if you will, while cleaning my room, which, now that we're on the subject, was something that I just absolutely abhorred doing. And by abhorred, I mean, i would have rather hung upside down by my toenails than actually clean my bedroom.
As I mature, I find I am getting better at getting a handle on that stuffing of papers and what-not, and I am more willing to throw it away. However, I have to get to that point....and that is the majority of my current problem.
My office.
When I bought this house, I was so excited to once again have a location where I could write and pay bills and do all sorts of officey stuff in ... but then the task of unpacking began and all the STUFF that I couldn't find a home for, went into the office and the office's closet.
Two years of accumulation has culminated in me screeching, "ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!"
Tonight, I tackled one corner of the room. Yes, that's right. One corner of the room. I know. It's sad. However, it's such an accomplishment! One corner of this room is almost completely cleaned. And I've recycled stuff! And thrown stuff away! And filed important stuff!
Tomorrow, I will tackle another corner, and then, maybe, just maybe, that dreaded closet!
Oh it's the baby steps that get us to the BIG PICTURE ...
It's just that, while cleaning out closets and, well, whole rooms, I run across stuff. Lots of stuff. Old stuff. Very old stuff. Twenty-year old stuff. Twenty-year old stuff that has moved six houses ... and across two state lines ... maybe ... okay, for sure, it did move across two state lines.
But it's not because I can't part with the junk. It's that I am overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of stuff in a given location, and rather than deal with it, I shove it in things. Like boxes ... like old, broken down envelope boxes ... for instance ... maybe ... okay, yes! I found a crap load of stuff in an old broken down envelope box. I admit it!
I'm pretty sure that, back in the 70s, when I was a small tyke, and I had that bright, banana-yellow plastic purse, I shoved all sorts of crap in that! I know I did, cuz I can remember grabbing the papers that my mother piled by her feet while she was paying bills ... the papers that she was going to recycle or throw away ... and I'd stuff them in stuff before she could squeal that I needed to keep my hands off. I am relatively sure she squealed those words because she found countless wads of papers in various vessels, if you will, while cleaning my room, which, now that we're on the subject, was something that I just absolutely abhorred doing. And by abhorred, I mean, i would have rather hung upside down by my toenails than actually clean my bedroom.
As I mature, I find I am getting better at getting a handle on that stuffing of papers and what-not, and I am more willing to throw it away. However, I have to get to that point....and that is the majority of my current problem.
My office.
When I bought this house, I was so excited to once again have a location where I could write and pay bills and do all sorts of officey stuff in ... but then the task of unpacking began and all the STUFF that I couldn't find a home for, went into the office and the office's closet.
Two years of accumulation has culminated in me screeching, "ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!"
Tonight, I tackled one corner of the room. Yes, that's right. One corner of the room. I know. It's sad. However, it's such an accomplishment! One corner of this room is almost completely cleaned. And I've recycled stuff! And thrown stuff away! And filed important stuff!
Tomorrow, I will tackle another corner, and then, maybe, just maybe, that dreaded closet!
Oh it's the baby steps that get us to the BIG PICTURE ...
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